


spare a thought

by neamenise (radovanryn)



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Consensual Kink, Foreplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Open Relationships, Post-Canon, Sexual Fantasy, Trans Isa (Kingdom Hearts), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radovanryn/pseuds/neamenise
Summary: Aroused and alone, Isa reminisces and fantasizes of lovers past, present, and more. (LeaIsa, post-canon, all other relationships tagged.)
Relationships: Axel/Saïx (past), Isa/Aeleus (mentioned), Isa/Aqua (mentioned), Isa/Lea (Kingdom Hearts), Saïx/Xemnas (past), Saïx/Xigbar (past), Xemnas/Axel/Saix (mentioned)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	spare a thought

**Author's Note:**

> **Please read all of the tags before reading.** Isa is presented as a transman in this story, which also features characters in an open relationship, as well as consensual domination/submission and other kinks. This story is set approximately 12 years after KH3.

Isa frowns at the book in his hands, some tawdry romance novel Lauriam recommended to him. Normally, he finds more humor than titillation in such volumes, but the scene unfolding across the pages is quite, well—

Distractingly erotic.

“Damn,” Isa grumbles as he sets the book and his reading glasses aside. He doesn’t fall victim to his libido as often as he once did, but what his urges lack in frequency is more than made up for in terms of _intensity_. Still, there’s no sense getting himself all worked up, since Lea isn’t supposed to be home from his mission for several more hours.

Isa busies himself for several minutes by tidying their living room, but the distracting ache building between his thighs stubbornly refuses to abate. After he’s dimmed the lights and gone to draw the curtains closed, Isa finally acknowledges the fine trembling in his fingers and the wet slip of his undergarments against sensitive skin. Goosebumps rise down the length of his arms.

Ridiculous, he thinks, that he should have so little control of his body, or his _impulses_ , at his age—nearly forty. Then again, it’s been weeks since he and Lea last shared an intimate moment together. And, for all Isa would prefer to wait until his partner returns—

A sudden throb of _need_ pulses through him.

—he may as well allow himself the indulgence.

And it _is_ indulgent, with Isa opting to leave the curtains open to allow the moonlight in, its soft glow caressing his skin as thoroughly as any lover. With Lea off-world and the younger keybearers having long-since left on their own journeys, there’s little chance for interruption. Still, Isa briefly entertains the idea of retreating to their bedroom, perhaps with one of their toys from the bedside table. His body has grown sensitive, and thus Isa is more aware of all the changes the years have wrought on his form—softness at his core, a subtle fullness in his thighs, his hair laced with silver threads. Neither he nor Lea are _old_ by any stretch of the imagination, however it would be foolish to deny that they’ve aged.

Instead, Isa relaxes into their couch. It’s more comfortable, and besides, he feels rather _decadent_ lounging on their sofa like some tawdry thing, too impatient for seclusion or privacy. Isa decides that _next time_ he’ll take this into the bedroom, ideally with Lea in tow; it’s been far too long since he’s taken his lover, and Isa is certain Lea misses it.

Exhaling softly, Isa lets his head fall back onto the cushions as his eyes drift shut. His hands begin wandering aimlessly as his thoughts drift, a kaleidoscope of erotic fantasies playing out in his mind’s eye. For all his earlier grumbling, in this regard Isa does not deny himself. He loves Lea, obviously—his lover is more precious to him than words could ever express. Yet, in the privacy of his own mind, Isa cannot deny that their lovemaking is not as thrilling now as it was when they were younger.

_Who would I have_ , he wonders, delving deep into his memories. Isa, and Saïx before him, never suffered a lack of paramours. He has always taken pleasure in sharing his body with others, and unlike Lea, does not mind if the act is purely physical. Just as it was with—

An image solidifies, and at last Isa’s hands find their focus.

_Xigbar._ Concealing their affair was difficult, but even without emotions it was thrilling nevertheless. Thinking back on it, Isa smirks. Their liaison lasted longer than either of them expected, nearly three years—perhaps longer, given Xehanort’s proposensities to alter the fabric of time itself. Enough time has passed now that Isa can look back on those terribly empty years with the faintest trace of nostalgia, and much of that sentiment is reserved for his dalliances with Xigbar. As Xehanort’s influence deepened, and his bond with Axel deteriorated, it was with Xigbar that Saïx remembered himself—if only after Xigbar finished taking him apart.

Isa bites his lip. It’s been _ages_ since they last heard any news regarding Xigbar’s whereabouts, but Isa would not be the least surprised if the enigmatic man suddenly appeared on their doorstep this very instant. He’d swagger in, without invitation or care, and whistle lowly at the sight of Isa. He’d be mortified, of course. Isa presses his face against his shoulder as he imagines the _shame_ he’d feel. It warms him further, sweat beading at his temples and the hollow of his throat.

_“Looks like someone got started without me. Heh, figures.”_ Xigbar wouldn’t hesitate; he’d stalk towards Isa with hunger in his eye, and before Isa realized what was happening Xigbar would have already joined him on the couch, one leg pressed between his own, the other grounded for better leverage. With a frustrated growl, Isa grabs a throw pillow and stuffs it between his legs. Even through two layers of cotton, he can still feel the coarse material as it rubs against him, pressure right where he needs it most. However, in his mind it’s Xigbar touching him, _teasing him_ , and _oh_ , Isa would gasp—

Isa _does_ gasp as he imagines Xigbar’s hands slowly tugging his zipper down, tooth by tooth. _“That’s it,”_ Xigbar would mutter, lips gliding across Isa’s bared collar and the faded scar that bisects his heart. The trail of buttons that pass underneath Isa’s fingers dampen the illusion somewhat, but not enough to replace the mental sound of a zipper coming undone as he deftly opens his shirt.

_“Just like old times, Blue.”_ The cool air feels divine as Isa bares his heated skin, nipples peaking from the chill. Still, Isa resists the urge to touch himself until he fully sheds his shirt. That was Xigbar’s way—he preferred to draw things out. _“Where’s the fire?”_ he’d say. _“We’ve got all the time in the world.”_

Strangely, Saïx always believed him. Xigbar taught Saïx how to be a patient lover, how to put aside his youthful haste in favor of slow-building ecstasy. And Saïx, in turn, showed Axel, although— _“Let me guess. Red still likes to rush things.”_ Isa imagines Xigbar’s gravelly chuckle as the soft material of his shirt at last slides down his arms, only to bunch, forgotten, around his waist. Isa shudders as he cups his breast, the skin warm and firm beneath his palm. He grinds down onto the pillow between his legs, his own wet slick and messy.

His breath is coming faster.

_“Indeed. For all his virtues, he cannot help but to burn uncontrollably. Wouldn’t you agree, Saïx?”_

Isa groans, guttural and utterly wanton. The pillow drops to the floor, forgotten, as his legs unconsciously fall apart. _Xemnas._

Xigbar and Saïx gave and took from one another in equal measure, however for Xemnas, Saïx _submitted_ , body and soul. For his and Axel’s objectives, true, but also his own gratification. Their connection through Xehanort, and Kingdom Hearts, granted them intimacy otherwise unknown to Nobodies, something Lea—

_Axel_

—has never understood.

Isa grunts as he rolls his nipple between his fingers, feels the ache in his groin. With that thought a nightmarish fantasy begins to take hold, the most terrible _what-if_ … To be a vessel was an inglorious fate, yet Axel would have worn that corruption spectacularly, his golden eyes and bright red hair reforming him into his namesake, the dancing flames. And in the process, Axel would know what Saïx understood so well, that is, the bliss of submission.

_“Perhaps he cannot be tamed,”_ Xemnas would remark, the reprimand obvious despite his even tenor. Isa cannot help but picture it, how he and Xemnas would impassively stare down a defiant Axel, who’d smirk in open rebellion, wildfire in his eyes. Isa imagines those wicked eyes on him, and frantically works to remove his pants. He needs more, _more_ —

_“Slower,”_ Xemnas would intone, measured as ever. _“Otherwise, Axel will never learn.”_

_“Never been one for a slow burn,”_ Axel’d tease, unwavering gaze devouring Saïx’s bare form. Is it betrayal, Isa wonders, that he sees Axel as he was—years younger, with tattooed cheeks untouched by the laugh lines that Lea proudly boasts? Or does it matter, given the sinister flaxen hue he imagines in his lover’s eyes?

“Ah…” Isa gracelessly sheds the last of his clothes, which fall to the floor in a rumpled pile. In his mind, however, Saïx is restrained. Controlled. _“Remember your place, Axel,”_ he’d scold, and Axel— _oh_ , Axel would pout.

_“Did we expect too much? A pity.”_

The throb of his cunt is unbearable now. With one hand, Isa touches himself, finger passing over his swollen clit; he hisses at the sensations, legs unconsciously drawing up. They’d take it in turns to incite and ignore Axel, until his partner-cum-saboteur would fall to his knees and beg, _plead_ with them to touch him, _“tell me what you want, an’ I’ll do it,_ anything _, just—”_

Isa hooks his calf behind the back of the sofa, legs akimbo in response to the fantasized plea. Picturing Axel’s submission to a man other than him leaves him paralyzed, as if held down by a thousand invisible threads, motionless save for the fingers rubbing desperately against his clit.

It’s too much.

Shuddering, Isa forces those images back into the darkest recesses of his mind. The past, and what could have been, is tantalizing yet also treacherous. Isa has no interest in reaching his climax only to be saddled with guilt for hours afterwards. Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart. He slows his fingers, too, intent on feeling _less_ for the moment.

_Enough memories._ Isa idly traces himself, fingers delicate along his vulva, then further down, pressing inside only enough to feel how _wet_ he is. Again, he asks himself: _Who would I have?_ Lea’s given him permission to take a lover, however peace doesn’t cultivate itself, and Isa hasn’t had the time to give it much thought. 

He does, now.

A woman? Elrena, or maybe Aqua? They kissed once, years ago, at Lea’s Mastery celebration. Aqua had taken Lea, as well as Kairi, on as her student, and he’d meant it as a congratulatory gesture. Later, Lea told him they looked _hot_ together—his partner and his Master. Isa can’t deny being intrigued. Then again, Lauriam has never bothered to hide his interest, going so far as to proposition Isa at his and Leon’s wedding reception. Or perhaps...

It ought to surprise him, the person who suddenly springs to mind. But then again, perhaps it shouldn’t. After all, his preference for redheads is well-known.

_Aeleus._ Hair aside, there is little he and Lea have in common. Where Lea is endless bravado, Aeleus is stern, yet steadfast. And, Isa thinks, eminently unattainable. In all the years Isa has known the older man, he hasn’t mentioned a partner or divulged a single dalliance. Ah, yes—Isa does enjoy a _mystery._

As he fondles himself—one hand buried between his thighs, the other absently massaging his chest—Isa relaxes into this new, enticing imaginary. Does Aeleus prefer the company of men, he wonders, or a man such as Isa? What if he is untouched, a virgin, like Lea—rather, _Axel_ —was before Saïx?

Doubtful, Isa decides. Aeleus is careful. Prudent. He would be a reserved lover, attentive to his partner’s needs. Isa spreads himself open with two fingers, and thinks how different it would feel to tighten his grip into much shorter, and far more tamed, curls. How he’d try to pull Aeleus closer, but—

“Ahh!”

He’s so excited, _so wet_ , that one of his fingers slips down, past his entrance and further still. The unfamiliar sensation has him gasping. He’s never— For as much as Lea enjoys, even _prefers_ it, rarely has Isa ever considered what it would be like to touch _himself_ in such a manner.

_“Isn’t that what you’re after?”_ Aeleus would ask. Isa suspects that even the older man’s nudity would seem comforting—and his considerable musculature, equally thrilling. _“Allow me to show you something new.”_

Isa has been with Lea, in some manner or another, for nearly twenty years. There is precious little they haven’t done together— done _to_ one another. But this, _this_ is different. New. _Exciting_.

Isa blindly rifles through the nearest end table, for once grateful for Lea’s ‘always be prepared’ mentality. He quickly finds the half-used bottle of lubricant stashed there, and tries not to think about how long it’s been sitting unused in this drawer. Instead, Isa uncaps the bottle and coats his fingers with a generous amount, and does his best to ignore the nervous flutter in his gut.

(He’s so totally focused, he doesn’t hear his gummiphone ringing in the next room.)

_“Let me show you.”_ Isa tenses as his fingers pass over his rim, barely catching the furrowed entrance. _“Relax. You will enjoy this, I promise,”_ Aeleus would tell him, his large frame securely blanketing Isa. Although he’s softened a bit with age, Isa is still far broader than Lea, and much stronger. It would be different with Aeleus. If he wanted, he could pick Isa up or pin him down, hold him against the wall and hook his legs over his shoulders until—

“Ha-ahn!” It feels so _delicate_. Isa rests the pad of his finger against himself, just to feel the pressure. He imagines what Aeleus’s fingers would feel like, their _thickness_ , and without consciously meaning to he rocks back slightly so that the tip slides inside.

Isa takes a deep breath, and as he exhales the phantom mirage of Aeleus dissipates. His entire focus is on himself. He relaxes slowly, and as he does his finger edges deeper inside. The soft warmth feels different, he thinks, but no less satisfying as he carefully rotates his wrist. Isa can feel his inner walls slowly loosen, inviting a deeper touch… although he’s not quite certain he’s ready for that.

_Would Lea…_

Isa moans as he languidly fucks his ass with his finger. Lea _would_ , oh, _he would_ , and afterwards ask Isa to return the favor. That thought—paired with his emboldened touch—overwhelms Isa, so intense it leaves him feeling dizzy. He retreats with a soft sigh, ignoring the empty clench of his hole as he puts his fingers back on his cunt.

No matter. He’s _close_ now, and getting closer. Isa arches his back and spreads his thighs, pulse thundering in his ears. And yet, over the sound of his own ragged breathing, Isa hears the scrape of a key followed by the heavy swing of the front door opening. Then, a soft _thud_ as Lea drops his things, emerald eyes wide with shock as he stares at Isa. The suddenness of Lea’s arrival startles a weak cry from Isa, who scrambles instinctively to cover himself. His fingers leave his body with a debauched _squelch_ , which is loud enough to break Lea out of his stupor.

“Don’t stop.” Lea’s voice sounds as wrecked as Isa feels. Isa flushes under his lover’s intense gaze. Although it’s nothing Lea hasn’t already seen—they’ve gotten off to watching each other countless times—this is the first time Isa has been caught in the act. He startles as Lea steps over whatever-it-was he dropped, and adds, “C’mon, please?”

Swallowing his shame, Isa lets his legs part so that Lea can see him—see _all_ of him.

“Fuck.” Vulgarity aside, Lea’s tone is very nearly reverential, almost as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He staggers gracelessly closer, and kneels beside Isa. “How are you so beautiful?”

“Lea… _ah!_ ” Dragging his pleasure out for so long has left him an absolute _mess_ , damp with sweat and legs shaking. His fingers edge closer, and Lea inhales sharply.

“Wait!” Lea shouts. Fingers suddenly curl around Isa’s wrist like tongues of flame. Isa squirms, unable to move, the friction he craves _just_ out of reach. Distantly, he wonders if Lea has gotten stronger, or if his desperation has weakened him. Regardless, he grunts his frustration, but Lea doesn’t budge. Instead, he gently tugs Isa forward until he’s half-seated with just enough space between him and the cushions for Lea to slip in behind him, his long limbs wrapping around Isa and surrounding him with even more _heat_. “Like this,” he murmurs. “Let me hold you.”

Isa nods, head lolling back onto Lea’s bony shoulder. Wrist freed, he brings his fingers back to where he needs them the most, parting his labia with one hand while the other presses inside, two, then three fingers thrusting smoothly. “There ya go, that’s it,” Lea whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down Isa’s spine.

Tension coils in his core, tighter and tighter as he works himself faster. Lea murmurs a steady stream of praise in his ear, voice so soft Isa half-wonders if he isn’t still fantasizing. “I could come from just this, babe,” Lea adds, and Isa can feel it, _feel him_ , pressed against him. Aching, as _needy_ as Isa. “That’s— _ahh_ , that’s what you’re doin’ to me…”

His words make Isa feel precious, and so deeply loved. For all the lovers he’s taken, Isa’s heart has always belonged to Lea.

The pressure builds, and his body _pulls_ his fingers deeper, desperate for release. Lea rests his hand on Isa’s stomach, and for once he doesn’t think about his belly or the receding definition of his muscles. How could he, when all he hears is Lea whispering sweetly—when all he can feel is the firmness of Lea’s arousal pressed against him, and his own frantic touch?

Fireworks, or rather _dancing flames_ spark from behind closed eyelids as Isa tenses, breath catching. Yet, it’s _Lea_ who moans, “Let go, Is’. Lemme see, c’mon…”

With a gasp, Isa utterly _unravels_ in Lea’s arms. His cunt pulses, sopping and wrecked as an indescribable euphoria overtakes him. Tears wet his eyelashes and trail down his cheeks, only for Lea to quickly kiss them away. The force of his release leaves Isa shaking, his fingers going still when even his touch becomes too much. As contentment washes over him like a gentle wave, Isa lays back and simply feels himself throb against his hands, still buried between his thighs.

And his mind, _oh_ , his mind is blessedly quiet.

A minute passes before Isa relaxes, body tingling pleasantly as he rests against Lea’s chest. His lover wraps Isa in his arms and presses gentle kisses against his sweaty brow. Isa would think it a tender moment, if not for the erection that presses insistently against his back. With a wry smirk, Isa rolls his shoulders, prompting Lea to grunt softly into his graying hairline.

“ _Mm_ , save that for me later,” Isa teases, although he doesn’t intend to make Lea wait for long; only until he’s thoroughly enjoyed this afterglow, and then however much time it takes to drag Lea to their bedroom.

“Hmph. I see how it is,” Lea replies, but he doesn’t sound _that_ bothered. Privately, Isa resolves to reward his patience—later. Their fingers tangle over Isa’s shoulder, mindless of the lingering stickiness. “I brought wine with me,” Lea adds, opposite thumb softly roving across Isa’s collarbone. Isa tips his head up, and spots the bottle in the bag Lea left by the door, surprised it didn’t shatter when it dropped.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks.

“Oh, I dunno.” Lea nips playfully at Isa’s earlobe. “Let’s just say, I wanted tonight to be somethin’ special.”

“Is that so?” Isa grins as Lea leaves a trail of kisses down his neck. “Well then, _darling,_ tell me what’s on your mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a birthday present for my dear friend, Robin ([imnotanironwall on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotanironwall)), although if you know me at all you’ll notice a few of my own… favorites (*cough* Axel-nort *cough*) thrown into the mix. I hope you enjoyed this smutty little thing, Robin, and happy (belated) birthday!
> 
> A quick note regarding some of the headcanons I included: I tend to write Isa as slightly older than Lea (only a year or two), sex-positive and more sexually open. (Lea/Axel, as my designated personal projection character, is demisexual.) It’s also important to me that Saïx’s relationships with any Organization member, especially Xemnas, are depicted as consensual, and that Saïx is an agentive and enthusiastic participant. Oh, and as a collective: **Let Aeleus fuck.** ;)
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, please write a comment or leave kudos! Your feedback really makes my day! You can find me on twitter [@leahas2hands](https://twitter.com/leahas2hands) (NSFW account) for thirsty Lea Axel Kingdomhearts content and fic drablets and previews not available on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and thanks again for reading! <3


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